


a team where you fit

by Crollalanza



Series: Sports Fest 2018 Haikyuu!! [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Chance Meeting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 07:32:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15138236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: Prompt:TIME: right after the kitaichi blowup matchPLACE: somewhere Kageyama thought he'd be alone





	a team where you fit

Benched.

He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that they’d lost. They were still blaming him. Still turning their backs, still refusing to speak unless it was to snarl.

The coach had tried in the changing room after to get them together. He’d taken Kageyama aside, explained that sometimes ‘people didn’t click’ and that was why he’d had to make the substitution.

“We lost.”

“Yes.”

“They didn’t do what I asked.”

The coach’s fingers had tightened over his shoulder. “Don’t make it impossible, Kageyama. You demanded without listening.” Then he’d turned the shoulder squeeze into a pat. Maybe he thought it was reassuring, that this ‘chat’ was now over and everyone had learnt from it, but Kageyama felt nothing but cold. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. I’d like you all to shake hands.”

Kindaichi’s face was a perfect ‘screw you’ as he faced him, but he gave a stiff bow. Next to him, Kunimi flapped a hand, but wouldn’t meet Kageyama’s eyes.

_And I have to say sorry?_

He picked up his kit bag, zipped it tight shut and headed for the door. “I’ll make my own way home.”

As he bowled down the steps, it crossed his mind that only the day before after they’d won their first match with such conviction, that it was here the short boy from the opposing team had yelled at him. Making stupid threats about unseating him, besting him in a match one day. As if!

But it now, mid-stride, he faltered. It was too bright outside and full of people. In his Kitagawa Daiichi training kit, he was altogether far too visible, and his teammates (if they could be called that) would catch up soon.

At the bottom, he took a left turn, then scooted behind the steps and into the shade. Here he could hide for a while, slump against the wall, slurp a drink and stay until he could work out what he’d do next.

They’d lost. He’d been benched. And the dream of heading to Nationals had died. With Ushijima Wakatoshi at High School, it had been Kitagawa Daiichi’s best shot for many a year.

They’d lost.

And …

‘Team of six,’ he’d once heard Iwaizimi-san say.

Was he right?

A sound pulled him out of his reverie, the sound of shoes scuffing the pavement, a stone being kicked across the concrete, and he huddled further into the shadows.

“Hey, kid, you okay?”

The voice was like a growl, harsh even if the words weren’t and Kageyama’s hackles instinctively rose.

“I’m not a kid. And I’m fine!”

“Sure. Wondered why you were hiding, that’s all… Oh!”

“What?”

The boy stepped closer. Face in shadow, Kageyama couldn’t discern his features or even hair colour, but it appeared to be short, cropped close to his head. He had a jacket tied around his waist, though, and those colours Kageyama recognised immediately and jolted out of his self-pity, getting to his feet.

“You go to Aobajousai High?”

The boy shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Did you all come to watch the Junior tournament?”

“Mmm. Next year’s captain wanted to. Lot of these kids might come to Seijou.”

He sounded bitter. Maybe he was worried a new player would take his place. He wasn’t _that_ tall, even though in High School.

“What position do you play?”

Perhaps he was a Setter, which would explain the bitterness.

“Wing Spiker. You’re a Setter, right?” He tipped his head. “I saw you on court.”

“I was benched.”

“Shit happens. Your team are assholes.”

“Thank you.”

The boy snorted. “You’re an asshole too.”

“Thanks.”

“That Number Six though.”

 “What about him?”

“Lazy bastard. At least they can’t accuse you of that.”

And Kageyama almost laughed. He wasn’t lazy, but somehow his team thought the fact he worked hard, put in the effort, practised, and practised and practised until the tips of his fingers had blistered and hardened into calluses, was something to be ashamed of and hidden from the rest of the world.

“So, where you planning on going next year?”

“Uh… not sure.”

Shiratorizawa hopefully, but they’d not made an offer and the exam … jeez, that entrance exam would crush him.

“I mean you’re a great Setter, but we have a decent Second Year and—”

“Oikawa Tooru, I know.” Exhaling, Kageyama stuck his hands in his pockets. “Big squad. D’you get to play?”

“Me? Yeah, when I’m not telling the third years where to get off. Tell you the truth, I’m thinking ‘bout jacking it all in.”

“Oh. Don’t you …. Why would you do that?”

“Oikawa-san is a fucking pain in the ass and the other first years are so desperate.” He toed the ground again, circling it in the dust. “I’m not a good ‘team’ player, apparently. Prob’ly best I quit now.”

“And not play again? EVER!”  He could feel his eyes popping out his head.

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I’d miss it, I guess, but I wouldn’t miss those guys. All jerks.”

“But what if they weren’t?” Kageyama asked, and stepped a little closer. He watched as the boy scratched the back of his head, and a shaft of sunlight illuminated small features, a scowl and thin eyebrows. And yes, he was short for a Wing Spiker at Seijou, but he was broad and with muscled arms. A bit like Iwaizumi-san.

“OI! Kyoutani, where are you?”

Kageyama jumped back at the sound of his old senpai’s voice, then shrank into the wall hearing the other.

“Mad-Dog-chan, we’re about to leave. Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” the boy muttered, and started to trudge away. Then he looked back over his shoulder. “Find a decent team, Kageyama-kun. Find a team where you fit, all right?”

“You, too,” Kageyama replied, and hoped his mumble reached him.


End file.
